


Pink Tulip

by Val_Creative



Series: Language of Flowers Femslash Feb 2021 [11]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), WandaVision (TV)
Genre: Coffee Shops, F/F, Femslash, Femslash February, Femslash February 2021, Humor, Light Angst, Minor Carol Danvers/Maria Rambeau, Past Mind Control, Romantic Friendship, Season/Series 01, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:49:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29365785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative
Summary: After getting blasted out of Westview, Monica struggles with picking herself back up. Darcy is here for talking it out.
Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Monica Rambeau
Series: Language of Flowers Femslash Feb 2021 [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138865
Comments: 19
Kudos: 143
Collections: Femslash February





	Pink Tulip

**Author's Note:**

> Does anyone else kinda shipping these ladies? I hope we get a little more of them in the next episode. Monica/Darcy/Jimmy is also acceptable. Anyways yes I hope everyone likes this! Comments/thoughts, as always, are welcomed and encouraged!
> 
> _Note: Pink Tulip - Good Wishes and Friendship_

*

_It hurts…_

One blink and she's back.

_Please help me…_

Her lungs felt like they were crushing in on themselves around Wanda. She felt breathless and terrified, and was unable to voice it. Wanda's piercing stare landed on her, near maniacal and near terrified as well. What did that mean? Was she not in control?

_Auntie Carol…_

It was just like the Blip. She regained consciousness to a flurry of panic around her. No explanation.

Monica felt the wet grass beneath her, and gazed out to the endless night sky, and remembered.

She remembered Geraldine: a speaking role in the real life nightmare sitcom of cisgendered, heteronormative, misogynistic, and predominately white American values. Monica's body was not her own inside the Westview Anomaly, her memory suppressed. She moved and walked and talked like someone else controlled every vein and tendon Monica had.

She failed before even getting the chance to do some good for hundreds and hundreds of people still trapped.

She failed.

A warm, glistening tear slips out of the corner of Monica's eye.

_Momma…_

"Whoa," Darcy exhales, letting go of Monica's shoulder when the other woman snaps to attention. "Sorry about that. Are you good?"

Monica blinks again. She's not inside Westview. She's inside a dusty, roadside coffee shop in New Jersey, a mile or two out. The **BEAN VAULT** window behind Darcy streaks with cool morning rain. A caramel iced coffee grasped loosely in Darcy's left hand.

"Yeah…" Monica says quietly, looking down and rubbing her temple. "Yeah… I spaced out for a moment…"

Darcy huffs, thinly smiling.

"You were like _deep_ space."

Normally, Monica would laugh, but she feels uneasy with the owner eyeing them. "We should go." Monica picks up her own coffee cup, moving towards the exit. A group of teenagers stampede towards the front bar-table, giggling and shushing each other.

Darcy seems unfazed, sucking on her straw and making an intrigued noise when she spots a bouquet of dying pink roses in the opened trash bin. She plucks one of the roses, sniffing it curiously and then muttering _"uugh!"_ while tossing it aside.

"I know we're probably gonna get in trouble for leaving base.…" Darcy points out, hurrying to Monica's side as they walk on. "But, you gotta admit… the coffee sucks ass. And, I personally needed to see someone else's face other than that lowlife Hayward."

Monica glances ahead to the empty and rain-puddling blacktop. Her stomach churns.

"What about Agent Woo?"

Darcy crinkles her nose. Monica glances to her, watching Darcy's mouth flatten. "Jimmy's alright. He's kind of a dork, but at least he's _nicer_ than the other agents," she admits. "Were you thinking about being back inside The Hex? Is that why you freaked?"

She knows that Darcy means well — she does _regardless_ of how blunt and apathetic Darcy comes off as —

But the sugary, chocolatey coffee in Monica's mouth turns bitter.

"The first thing I remembered when I got back was pain. All of this pain went right into every fiber of my being and I was afraid I was gonna drown on Wanda's grief," Monica's next breath stutters. "It was _her_ grief I was feeling, not mine," she says firmly, but Darcy gives her an overly concerned look through her glasses. "It didn't just physically hurt… it was a mental prison of _torture_."

"Sounds like a weekend with my ex-girlfriend," Darcy mumbles. At the slightly raised eyebrow from Monica. she simpers. _"Hey!"_ Darcy crows, nudging their shoulders, hopping for a moment on the street. "At least you're in better company now!"

Monica chuckles. "Ex-girlfriend?"

"You ever dated girls?"

It's a hint of mischievous intention in Darcy's tone.

But the question only flutters a living memory for Monica. "My momma fell in love with her best friend," she whispers. Monica smirks softly, imagining Maria Rambeau's perfume mingled the odor of sweat after she came home from the karaoke bar, dragging in Monica's second mother and kissing her tenderly. "Carol lived with us from when I was born until she disappeared."

Darcy offers a sympathetic look.

"I never had time to date," Monica says flatly, but narrows her eyes with her smirk. "Was this a date? To you?"

"Not unless you plan to get naked, Captain Rambeau."

Monica opens her mouth, laughing out an _"oh!"_ while Darcy beams with pleasantly flushed cheeks. "I'm gonna pass this time."

"Your loss."

They looked around when Jimmy noisily pulls up in one of the agent's vans, hissing out about breaking protocol. He waves for them. Darcy cheerfully swings open the van's door, hopping in. Monica sighs, hopping in with her, taking Darcy's hand.

She's a little steadier now.

*


End file.
